


stay

by atlas (songs)



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Pre-Shippuden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5487788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs/pseuds/atlas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he meets another orphan-boy at moonrise, in the midst of a dying garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay

lonely, sea-eyed, swingset kid. bony knees, and orange up to his elbows. trouble-hungry urchin, he hated the sunset, he always hated the sunset. he meets another orphan-boy at moonrise, in the midst of a dying garden. wilted tomato-plants, weeds. breathless flowers, weeds, weeds.

_how did you find this place?_

_i found it while looking for you._

_i don’t know you,_ says the quiet boy. but, wait. wait. which boy is that? they’re both quiet, in certain ways, lost and wistful and alone, for the most part.  _poor thing lost his parents,_ monster never had any. beast or boy, beast or boy. which is which? who is who? 

he finishes,  _my mom used to tend to the plants. don’t step on them._

_i’m sorry._

_don’t apologize, when you don’t know._

_you’re right. i don’t know._

an echo: _what are you doing here?_

a standstill, there. the mansion behind them is mossy, unkempt. strewn with dirt and ghosts.

in a teasing voice:  _i’m haunting you._

_i’d rather be haunted by someone else._

_okay. i’ll be honest._

_okay._

_i want to be friends._

_i don’t even like you._

_i don’t like you, either–_ a pause, and:  _so let’s be friends._

_no._

_no?_

_i refuse._

_and i’m leaving._

_good._

_goodbye!_

_wait – watch your step. the wood’s–_

_yeah?_

_it’s rotting, there. be careful._

_what’s it matter? you don’t even like me._

_i don’t._

_me neither._

_fine, go. see if i care._

_i’m going, i’m going,_ comes the other boy’s voice.

but his feet don’t move. in the garden, glimpsing that starry, child-face, he lingers.


End file.
